


Careful

by Aethelflaed



Series: Careful [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Happy Ending, Holy Water, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, Protective Crowley, Scene: St. James's Park 1862 (Good Omens), Short & Sweet, St James's Park (Good Omens), True Love, Tumblr Prompt, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), accidental love confession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 06:11:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21489655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aethelflaed/pseuds/Aethelflaed
Summary: For nearly 6,000 years, Aziraphale has been careful to control his actions, his feelings, even his thoughts. Until Crowley makes a request that could destroy them both...(Alternate ending to the St. James's Park 1862 scene, inspired by a prompt from @goodomensprompts on Tumblr.)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Careful [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1598518
Comments: 47
Kudos: 363





	Careful

**Author's Note:**

> This is not part of my ongoing series, just something to keep me occupied while waiting for my beta reader to get back to me. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Inspired by the following anonymous prompt from @goodomensprompts on Tumblr:
> 
> Because I am a sucker for accidental love confessions: When Crowley asks for holy water in 1862 it doesn't end with one of them storming off. Instead, the situation devolves into a full-blown argument with Aziraphale's reason for refusing eventually boiling down to a variant of "because I love you!"
> 
> And also by @kedreeva's response:
> 
> but just…. consider… the crack in Aziraphale’s voice as he says it, loud enough to stop Crowley arguing. The immediate regret - not at the sentiment, but at having exposed it - and the soft exhale that follows as he gives up and the soft way he repeats it. surrendering because there’s nowhere to hide now, and there’s no hope of dignity left anyway, and if Crowley wants to go then he can’t feel the same right?? if he loved aziraphale too then he wouldn’t be asking for a way out… and please whatever you do, do NOT imagine crowley trying to figure out how to tell Aziraphale the reason he’s asking is because he would literally destroy his own kind for a chance to stay near aziraphale even just a little longer………. i’m just saying………. I’m just…… putting that out there for you…… just….. in case you wanted to write it……. JUST INC ASE

## Careful (1662 words)

Aziraphale was careful.

Every decision considered from all angles. No risk taken without every possible outcome considered. Even his own thoughts and desires were regulated, held behind a wall he’d constructed long before the Arrangement even began.

If he smiled at a kind comment or laughed at receiving a gift, it was only when there were no witnesses, mortal or supernatural. If he allowed himself to be foolish about pastries and wines, it was only to ensure he wasn’t foolish over far more important matters.

He wished Crowley could learn to be careful. Oh, the demon tried, but he didn’t take it _seriously._ Elaborate cloak-and-dagger routines that drew more attention than they averted. Foolhardy plans that inevitably blew up in his face. And today was the worst yet.

They stood in St. James’s Park, feeding the ducks, two proper Victorian gentlemen of passing acquaintance. Idle conversation, unconcerned looks.

Except that now Crowley was babbling some nonsense about ducks and ears, while the slip of paper with his request tore Aziraphale’s world apart.

“Out of the question.”

“Why not?”

“It would destroy you.” He glanced again at the paper, the words _Holy Water_ in Crowley’s neat handwriting, and tried not to imagine him gone, tried not to imagine a world without that swaggering, arrogant charm or the cocky half-smirk when Crowley couldn’t quite fight back a smile. He tried to hand the paper back, to get the words as far from himself as possible. “I’m not bringing you a suicide pill, Crowley.”

“That’s not what I want it for.” The demon was dismissive, almost angrily so, shoving the paper back to Aziraphale. “Just…insurance…”

“I’m not an idiot, Crowley.” He crumpled up the paper in his hand. “What kind of insurance could you possibly need?”

Crowley’s crossed arms pulled in tighter, hunching his shoulders, but he continued to stare across the pond, eyes hidden behind dark lenses. “You know what kind. You’re the one always worrying about my side finding out. This is me, thinking ahead for once.” He didn’t need to clarify. There weren’t many reasons a demon would ask for something so dangerous – either a quick end in the face of unimaginable torment, or a way to go down fighting.

Either option was unacceptable.

“This is you not thinking at all!” Aziraphale’s hand clutched the fence in front of him. He hoped Crowley wouldn’t see how white his knuckles were. It was an effort to keep his voice low enough not to attract attention. But a panic was rising in him that he could barely control. “What I want is for you to be discreet. Careful. This is the farthest thing from that!”

“You’re the one who –” Crowley caught his voice before it could raise to a shout, glancing over his shoulder. When he continued, it was in a sharp whisper. “– Who isn’t thinking. No amount of _care_ can last forever. Some day they _will_ find out. Have you ever stopped to think what you’ll do when Heaven learns what you’ve been up to?”

“I haven’t because they won’t.”

“Won’t they?” Another glance to the side and _oh_, now Crowley was looking at him, but such a look. Intensity that threatened to break the lenses to pieces. Leaning closer, too close for propriety. It wasn’t only Heaven and Hell they had to worry about in this age; humans could be far too observant, too inquisitive. Aziraphale had established a comfortable life here that he wanted to keep, and that needed to be protected from certain sorts of rumors.

He took a step back, reestablishing some distance, forcing his voice into something businesslike. _Take care, take care._ “Crowley. In eight and a half centuries, I’ve never given my superiors a thing to worry about. You’ve said yourself, as long as the work gets done, they don’t care how it’s accomplished.”

“But suddenly _my_ superiors are very curious about my methods. Want to know how I consistently outsmart such an experienced angel. Checking in just a little more often than they used to. Have yours been doing the same?”

“Perhaps,” Aziraphale admitted reluctantly. “But that only means we need to be _more_ circumspect, not start contemplating…foolish risks.”

“And what do you propose we do? Wear disguises when we meet?”

“Far better if we never meet at all.” He hadn’t realized what he was going to say until the words were out, and they cut through him like a sword. “In the future, you can simply send a message.”

A shudder ran through Crowley, causing him to take a shaky step back. “Send a _message?”_

“You could write it in one of those codes you’re so fond of.” It would be hard to be careful, relying on messengers, but at the moment it seemed the least risky option.

“I’m not worried about – Are you telling me you’d rather we…handled the Arrangement through _intermediaries?_ Never saw each other face-to-face?”

“Yes!” Aziraphale took another step back, throwing away the piece of paper that still sat accusingly in his hand. He found he couldn’t breathe. “It’s better that way. No more visits to my shop, no more meetings at the theater, no more evenings on the town. In fact, I should leave immediately –” He turned away.

“Why?” Crowley’s hand flew up, fingers brushing the shoulder of the angel’s coat before pulling back as if burned. “How can you cut me out of your life so easily?”

“Because I want you safe!” Aziraphale spun back around, tears in his eyes. “Because I would rather never see you again than have you destroyed! Because I love you!”

His breath caught in his throat as he realized what he’d said. Crowley’s head jerked back, and even with the glasses there was no mistaking his expression of shock.

Aziraphale’s hand grabbed at the fence again as his legs nearly gave out. It hit him in a wave, every repressed emotion, six thousand years of fear and pain and tenderness, carefully hidden even from himself. Yes, he loved Crowley, and had for almost the whole of human history.

But the simple act of putting a name to his feeling was almost enough to destroy Aziraphale. He felt exposed. Vulnerable. Everything he feared seemed so much closer, so much more real than it ever had before. He loved Crowley, and that love would certainly destroy them both.

And so it was with a tremble in his soft voice that he continued: “I love you. I don’t know what I would do if you left.”

“I’m not the one speaking of leaving,” Crowley said in a harsh voice. But when Aziraphale tried again to turn away, black gloved fingers caught his hand – just two fingers resting at the base of his thumb, with infinite tenderness. “Angel. Aziraphale. I will never leave you.”

“But…the Holy Water…”

“It’s not a suicide pill. It’s a weapon.” He glanced around again and Aziraphale wondered how he could ever have believed the demon _wasn’t _careful. “I will never, ever let anyone separate us.”

“You can’t –” The idea was almost too much to wrap his mind around. “You can’t seriously think you would _win._ Against the power of _Hell?_ They wouldn’t stop – you’d never be able to – no, I forbid it!”

Swallowing, Crowley pulled back his hand. “We shouldn’t be talking about this here. It isn’t even safe to say these things around humans.”

Six thousand years of care, so nearly shattered by one thoughtless comment. “We shouldn’t – I should never have said anything.”

“Yes, you should have.” Crowley took another reckless step closer, and _oh_ he was so close Aziraphale thought he could almost see through those black lenses, see what he’d always hoped and feared would be hidden there. “One of us had to. Please, let’s go somewhere we can talk.”

“Don’t you understand, Crowley? There is no place we can talk.” The weight of hopelessness pressed down on him. “There will never be a place for us, on Earth or in Heaven or Hell.”

“Then we’ll make one!” Crowley’s hands grasped Aziraphale’s face, cradling it so carefully. “We will carve out a space for ourselves where no one else can ever touch us. I know it won’t be easy but this is worth fighting for. You are worth fighting for!”

“Crowley, please!” It was a strangled gasp, a sob, a noise of pure desperation. The demon glanced around to find several passersby had stopped to gawk. Two proper gentlemen acting in a most improper manner. How tongues would wag.

He stepped back in a rush, fists clenched. “I’m sorry, Angel. I – I’m –” He began to back away, not even bothering to pick up the walking stick he had dropped somewhere during the exchange. Neither of them had noticed it fall.

Azirpahale’s mind was in a whirl. Damage control. How to stop the rumor that could ruin his mortal identity. How to ensure no word of this ever reached Heaven. How to distance himself from Crowley again, after all they’d said. How to build back up the walls he’d so carefully maintained for six thousand years.

Then he threw all those thoughts away, closed the distance between them, took Crowley’s face in his hands.

And kissed him as fiercely and as wildly as he knew how.

Top hats tumbled to the ground. Their feet stumbled as each pulled the other closer, closer, Crowley’s warm hands pressing into his back, until they nearly overbalanced and fell into the duck pond.

When they couldn’t stand it anymore, Aziraphale buried his face in Crowley’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around that narrow waist, feeling his demon’s arms envelop him, keeping him safe.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Crowley gasped. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

“I don’t care,” Aziraphale said, and was shocked to find it true. It was the most beautifully freeing thing he’d ever felt. “Let them come for us. You were right, this is worth fighting for. And I am so tired of being careful.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated. Do you want me to post my other Tumblr one-off fluffs? Let me know!
> 
> [The original text can be found here.](https://aethelflaedladyofmercia.tumblr.com/post/189025994527/because-i-am-a-sucker-for-accidental-love)
> 
> For anyone waiting on "Sawdust of Words" - sorry about the extended hiatus, I will have something posted later this week (just finishing final edits/continuity checks). I hope you enjoyed this fluff, because the angst party starts soon.


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